


The Holly and the Ivy

by mistresscurvy



Series: Advent 2017 [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Advent 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 14:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12986124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistresscurvy/pseuds/mistresscurvy
Summary: Jake has a problem. He needs a sign to help him decide what to do.





	The Holly and the Ivy

**Author's Note:**

> Fic for the second night of Advent (just a bit late)! Thank you to H for the encouragement and read through.

Jake kept telling himself that he would get used to it, but so far no dice.

In his own defense, he’d gotten used to almost everything else by now. It had been months since he’d worried that he’d be sent back down after one quiet game. The team felt like his, even after all the changes to the room over the summer. In some ways that made it easier, in all honesty; he was one of the guys who had been there, and he got to welcome the new guys just like he had been welcomed. He hadn’t really been conscious of the thread of anxiety that had woven its way through his body last season until it was gone.

Of course, that just made the feelings that hadn’t faded over the summer even harder to ignore.

He knew that he was the closest thing the team had to a rookie at the moment, and that his stall was still next to Sid’s for that reason and that reason alone. But he couldn’t help but feel like it was part of the worst, most perfectly targeted version of hazing he’d ever encountered.

It was a good thing they hadn’t had the sort of injuries that would import half of the Wilkes-Barre roster to Pittsburgh. He knew that. But on his dark days he began to feel like it must be a conspiracy. If he had a stall even one or two guys down from Sid’s, he wouldn’t have to hear what Sid said about him to the press after the games: unwavering support when Jake went through his bad stretch, and obvious pride when at last he broke through.

He knew Sid well enough by now to know that even if he didn’t overhear Sid’s distillation of Jake’s play to the media every night, Sid would still seek him out to make sure Jake knew what was what. Sid did that with everyone. Jake wouldn’t be spared just because he didn’t sit next to him anymore. But he’d never been good at dealing with indirect praise, and that hadn’t changed. It turned out he was especially bad at dealing with hearing it from Sid, for reasons he didn't particularly want to think about but couldn't really avoid any longer.

It wasn’t something he could talk about with anyone on the team. And when he tried to discuss it with someone outside the team, it went less than well.

“So you’re mad that your superstar captain keeps bigging you up to the media?”

Jake sighed. This had been a mistake. “I’m not _mad._ ”

“Uh-huh.” Brett gave him a look from Jake’s iPad. “You’re super not mad, which is why you FaceTimed me over it.”

“Why would I be mad?” Jake asked in what he thought was a very reasonable way.

“I don’t know, bro, you’re the weird one. If my captain was singing my praises to everyone, I wouldn’t be complaining about it—oh holy shit.”

“What?” Jake really did not like that look on Brett's face at all.

“You’re not mad because you don’t like it,” he said with growing glee. “You’re mad because you _do._ ”

Jake pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes so he didn’t have to see him. “I knew I could count on you to be understanding.”

“Aiming high, I like it Jakey, you can get him to buy you a nice house.”

“Fuck you, I'll buy my own nice house,” Jake snapped, looking up and glaring as Brett laughed and laughed. Rising to the bait was never a good plan, but his inability not to overreact to dumb shit was the entire root of his problem to begin with. “So, like, what do I do?” He felt pathetic, but there was a reason he had called Brett. Once he stopped laughing at Jake, he was always a good friend. Terrible boyfriend, they had discovered, but invaluable in situations like these.

“Well, what do you want to happen?”

Jake stared at him. “Like, in reality or in my dreams?”

Brett shrugged. “Both? Listen, you’re already living the dream, you might as well shoot for the moon.”

“And risk blowing the part of my dream I actually have.”

“Yeah, but if you’re lucky that won’t be the only thing you blow. And I want details when you do.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Jake said automatically.

“See, there’s your cocky side, you do think you’ve got a chance at getting in there.”

Jake looked away. “I don’t know. Not because of what he says about me, he’d do that about any teammate. He does do it, I hear him.”

“But?”

“But sometimes he looks at me,” Jake said in a rush. “Not, like, just when we’re playing. And it makes me wonder. Which I shouldn’t do, but it’s really hard not to when he also looks so happy every time I play well.”

“He’s a competitive motherfucker.”

“I know, but like, I know the difference between a guy who loves winning and a guy who might like an easy handjob. But Sid doesn't really seem like either. Or, I mean, he's definitely the first guy, but I can't tell if he might want more. Or nothing. Who can tell with him?” Jake asked rhetorically. He really hadn’t been planning on going so far down this particular rabbit hole at the beginning of this conversation, but he was here now, so why not.

“Okay, so you need to find out exactly what Sid is, then,” Brett said reasonably.

“Piece of cake,” Jake said sarcastically.

“I have faith in you, Jakey. And I expect to hear the full story soon.”

“Dream on,” Jake said, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.”

He had sort of expected that the first time he saw Sid after talking to Brett about it that the skies would part and everything would become clear and Jake would either know he needed to get over this lingering rookie crush or he'd have a bolt of inspiration for how to hit on Sidney Crosby. But he just felt the same ball of anxiety and anticipation and uncertainty when he caught Sid watching him after practice, and Sid smiled at him, not looking like he was going through any kind of potentially life altering emotional struggle. 

It was just about the only constant during Jake's fall, the team continuing to lurch from win to loss and back again without picking up any sort of lasting rhythm. Trying to push something with Sid and potentially disrupting whatever it was that they had together seemed unwise, at best. 

Or at least that's what he told himself when he started to feel like a total chickenshit. He wasn't terrified; he was being prudent. 

All of his carefully crafted justifications went out the window at the team's holiday party, thanks to Catherine Letang's Christmas cocktail. He had no idea what was in it, just that he had definitely had more in an hour than he probably should have, and if he didn't want to make an utter fool out of himself in front of the whole team he should definitely hide for a bit. There was the fun level of drunk that meant you passed out on the balcony after the Cup parade, and then there was the level that made talking about his feelings with Phil seem like a good idea, and he was rapidly approaching the latter. 

So he made his way up to the second floor, the fading noise of the party downstairs already doing plenty to clear his head, and he walked down the hall looking for a guest room. Before he could find one, a tiny voice saying something very sleepy in French one door down clued him in to the fact that he wasn't alone. 

He had just enough time to think that he should try to find Tanger or Catherine, since Alex was very clearly not in bed, when he heard Sid's voice. Jake couldn't quite make out what he said, which confused him at first, until he realized that Sid had answered him back in French, of course. It sounded so different in his voice than when Tanger spoke it. He drifted closer to the open door and peered in. 

Sid was crouched on the floor next to Alex's bed. "Come on, buddy." Sid had switched to English. "It's time for bed now, but if you go to sleep we can go skating tomorrow." 

"Promise?" Alex demanded, his head already settling down on the pillow. 

Sid crossed his heart. "Promise." He swept his hand over Alex's hair and down his shoulders, leaning in to give him a kiss on the top of his head. "Sleep well." 

He stood up, and Jake had just enough time to back up from the open door so that Sid wouldn't immediately see him. He shuffled backwards until he was standing in the big bay window near the top of the staircase, which wasn't his best plan since the stairs were where Sid was headed and so he saw Jake almost immediately. 

"Hey," Sid said in a half-whisper. "What are you doing up here?" 

Jake shrugged, suddenly feeling far too sober for this conversation. "Just wanted some air. What about you?"

"The bathroom downstairs was occupied, so I figured I'd sneak up here. And then I found someone plotting a prison break." Sid looked back at Alex's room fondly. "He was too sleepy to do much more than insist that he was ready to join the whole party for the entire night, though."

"Good thing you got here when you did, then," Jake said. Being alone with Sid just one floor above everyone else felt like the best kind of secret, like they were in their own bubble together that could be popped at any moment. He didn't know if he wanted to pop it, or help keep it afloat for as long as he could manage. He looked upwards as if he would find the answer there. 

What he did find was a sprig of something hanging from the center of the garland that trimmed every windowsill in the house. And while Jake hadn't watched a ton of Christmas movies in his life, he was pretty sure he could identify a sign this obvious when he saw one.

He looked back at Sid, who was watching him with a bemused expression on his face. "You alright, Guentz?"

Jake nodded, swallowing hard. "I seem to be standing under some mistletoe," he said, glad that at least the holiday gods were smoother than he was. 

Sid took a step closer, peering up at the foliage above him. "Huh." 

"So." Jake waited, his entire body alight with nerves, a tiny voice in the back of his head screaming very loudly that this was a terrible idea and he should really just fling himself down those convenient stairs located right next to him. 

"No," Sid said, and Jake was just about to take the advice of his very wise screaming inner voice when Sid continued, "no, it's not mistletoe, it's holly."

"...oh," Jake said, staring up at it and squinting.

"See, it's got red berries and pointy leaves. And besides, mistletoe is toxic, so Cath probably didn't want it in the house." 

"How do you _know_ that," Jake demanded, and before Sid could explain that he watched a documentary on the toxicity of various common holiday plants, he added, "Well, there's a different tradition for holly, anyway." 

"Really?" Sid sounded genuinely curious, like Jake was going to expand his knowledge of holiday history, which very nearly made Jake lose his nerve. But even if that sprig of holly wasn't actually the sign Jake had thought it was, Jake had wanted it to be one, which was itself an even clearer sign, in his opinion. 

Following this tipsy logic to its obvious conclusion, Jake said, "Yeah, the person under the holly gets to kiss someone." He watched as Sid's cheeks grew pink, his eyes bright and focused on Jake. 

"Well, you don't have too many options up here," Sid said, spreading his hands in self-deprecation. 

"I'll manage," Jake said, and took one step closer and kissed him. He kept it light at first, just a dry brush of his lips against Sid's, like he was a delicate bird that was easily startled. But Sid kissed him back easily, head tilting and arms coming up around Jake's body like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Jake stopped thinking about how he might be able to play this off if he had made a mistake and just focused on how good it felt. 

After not nearly long enough, Sid pulled away from the kiss, but his hands were still firm on Jake's back. "We should probably head downstairs before someone decides to get back out of bed." He kissed Jake again before he could respond, which was the best kind of mixed message Jake had ever gotten. 

The second time Sid pulled away, he put actual distance between him and Jake. "Just so you know, I have holly hanging at my house, too," he said, looking far too pleased with himself. 

"Very smooth," Jake said, but he didn't have much room to talk and he knew it. 

From the look Sid gave him, he knew it too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hockey tumblr is [here!](https://hockeymuffins.tumblr.com/)


End file.
